When I return to my birth
My body spread out in the earth
With fingers like roots on seed
Tears of my brothers watering me
And will we float up into space?
Bodies shot up on a vertical interstate
Could we still stop for a snack
On cosmic highways? Gas station off ramps
So take all the time that you want
A whiskey with Jon in the fall
So break my false sense of control
Because there’s nothing we have here to hold
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
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